Furry High (furry 'coming of age' story) R18+

20

Adrian leapt from his car at such a speed, that he had forgotten to even open the door handle. But the door had still opened, thanks to his sheer, semi-lucid momentum.

And what an entrance that had been! A sheepdog in the dirt of Filler's driveway. Clutching his dislodged car door like a shield. Laughed up by the girls who were scissoring in the backseats of their boyfriends cars, and the boyfriends themselves, who were quite busy throwing up blood in the garden.

Not a bad party. Adrian had thought, as he had peered into more than a few of these cars. Been a while since I've stumbled into one of these.

But before he took the pleasure of walking into one of the booths, were another one of Filler's pets could shoot something up into his system; he took something for a similar intention.

A shooting intention.

A useful chunk of metal, housing useful, chunks of littler metals. Straight from the glovebox of his car, along with his phone, and a hoodie that he'd give to girls back at high school when they were cold, in hopes that would be just enough to let him heat them up in some other way.

He approached the black stallion standing at the head of the queue with feverish footsteps, his fluffy black ears pulled up into his hoodie. God I could go for a smoke right now...

"Dude," Said the stallion. "There's a reason queues exist, back of the line."

Adrian lifted his head, and the stallion's expression quickly changed. Something of panic. Something of wide, angry eyes.

"If you do anything,"

The horse felt cold steel poke against his stomach.

"I will shoot you. I'm not joking."

"You've got some real fuckin' nerve coming here."

The sheepdog rolled his eyes.

"Don't think I've forgotten about Vicky."

"I'm already bored." Said Adrian. "Can you just let me in, please? Do I have to shoot you?"

A flicker of retaliation enjoys a second in the stallion's eyes, before it sizzles away. He sighs, looks down, and stamps the sheepdog's arm as he had the rest of them.

"Good boy."

"He's going to kill you, you know."

But Adrian was already walking away, distantly listening to the words through the thick of his hoodie.

"He loved that leopard. He'll fucking kill you."

Adrian's ankles were hurting from the adrenalin. They took him up into the tents were the stabs for the parties were being dished out.

"I have a gun. Don't stab me."

The dog, wrapped up in his blue hazmat suit, said nothing. His mask quivered gently as he reached around for the needle.

Adrian watched, partially out of amazement, as the canine swayed gently, the little eyeholes of his gas-mask fogged up, his body staggering under his own weight.

Then the dog fell over entirely. His head hitting the ground hard.

He whimpered gently, his paws shaking.

Adrian eyed the tent's exit-flap. The way it swayed in the wind, ever so tempting... how easy it would be to just walk out and get that fuckin' racoon and get the hell out of here.

"You alright?" Adrian said, as he scooped his paws under the canine.

The dog said nothing, he just made a little choking noise. The gas-mask seemed to bulge out slightly.